


Son of Fire

by kurohachi



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: He started quite young but there won't be any underage sex don't worry, I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'M DOING AHAHA, I'm just doing whatever I want gomen, M/M, Making this up as I go along, Mpreg, Paternal Lestrade, Sherlock is a shapeshifter, aka that one fic in which Lestrade adopted a dragon, btw John here is a veterinarian, but this takes place in modern world, intersex sherlock, rating will increase later, shapeshifter AU, there won't be sex until much much later but just so you can be prepared of what's coming, well anyway give it a shot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-29
Updated: 2014-01-07
Packaged: 2018-01-06 09:33:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1105227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurohachi/pseuds/kurohachi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One night Lestrade found a large lizard-like creature who shifted into a young boy. A boy with dark curls and piercing golden eyes. A boy lost and now found.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It's a Smuggling Bust

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what happened except I was watching Pacific Rim when I got the sudden inspiration. Last week I just watched DoS so that might have lent to this idea. Anyway. Yeah. Oops.
> 
> Fair warning, this is not beta'ed so please forgive the poor grammar and spelling. If you spot any glaring mistake, please leave a comment and I'll do my best to fix it.
> 
> Also I understand if this may be a squick to some people. Sherlock meets Lestrade when he's about 5-6, but he ages very rapidly until he's about 25-30 which is when things get a lot less paternal. Before then, it's just going to be platonic between these two. 
> 
> If you want to know more about the shifters in this AU, please see the end note.

Lestrade sighed and turned his eyes skyward. The dark clouds rolling in the sky seems to add to the dreariness of the night. There was no moonlight that night. The only respite from the darkness was the red and blue siren of the patrol cars and other emergency vehicles. They were behind a large warehouse row in a secluded area in London, where an anonymous tip lead them to the heart of the biggest exotic animal smuggling ring in Britain. 

A number of chittering and growls can be heard from the cluster of cages; Animals big and small of all kinds: tigers, monkeys, snakes, fishes, reptiles and birds of all colors and sizes. 

Lestrade should be happy about this great success. Sure the elusive head honcho had escaped (his boss would have a field day with this ‘Moriarty’) but he managed to capture most of the higher officers. Not to mention they rescued hundreds of animals, all of them stuffed in cages that were too small and too crowded for them. They found a few animals that died of stress, and a few that died because of lack of proper care, and even more that died because of the cold. It was tragic, and Lestrade winced when he remembered the smell that assaulted his nose when they opened the metal door. 

Despite all that, it was a great success, and promotion should be waiting for him. But soon-to-be Detective Inspector Lestrade couldn’t be happy because not seventy two hours ago, his wife had walked out on him.

_You’re never at home, Gregory. It’s always work work work with you. I can’t stand to be lonely in my own home. You never make time for us. Don’t you love me anymore?_

At first Greg would smile sadly, tell her that he couldn’t help it. London needs him. Sometimes he would find it adorable that Maggie would miss him so much when he wasn’t home. They love each other, he often told himself. It would be fine.

Then before he realized it, they drifted apart further than he ever expected. 

“Last of the cage has been loaded, sir.” Donovan gave him a small salute, breaking him from his reverie “I think we’re all done here."

Lestrade stared at her for a moment before snapping back to reality. “All right, pack it up. Great work today.” Lestrade said and the cars started leaving one by one, the patrol cars taking the apprehended smugglers and the police truck taking the animals to a safe haven. 

“Great work today, Donovan.” Lestrade smiled at his detective constable, fishing a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it.

“Thank you sir.” Donovan gave him a small smile before her expression became uncertain. “Listen, sir. I’m sorry to hear about—“

Lestrade cut her off because he didn’t want to hear her name again so soon. “It’s fine, Donovan. Thank you for worrying about me. I’ll be fine.” She opened her mouth to say something but she stopped herself with a small shake of her head. Finally she offered with a small smile, “If you need to talk to anyone…”

“Sure, yeah. Thanks. Go home and try to catch some sleep, will you? Give me the report tomorrow.” He smiled tiredly.

Donovan gave a small salute again and turned to her car. Some days Lestrade wouldn’t know what to do without his DC. If he gets promoted into DI, he would see to it that Donovan is promoted too.

Donovan’s car drove off and finally the only cars in the vicinity was Greg’s and a number of police cars a distance away, securing the parameter. Greg fished a cigarette from inside his coat and brought it to his lips, only realizing then he already had a cigarette there. Embarrassed, he looked around and thankfully the policemen there weren’t even looking at him. 

Still, he walked to a narrow alley between two warehouses and decided to smoke there. In hindsight it wasn’t the brightest of idea to be alone in the dark only hours after he lead a bust in the very same location, but later Lestrade would justify it by saying there was a lot on his mind.

So he extinguished the old cigarette in the portable ash tray he carried and lit a new one. Maggie wanted him to quit, and he swore that this would be his last pack. He made the same promise numerous times and broke them so often he couldn’t find it in himself to feel guilty anymore. But he promised, this time he would quit. Just to make his wife happy.

_Too little, too late._

“And isn’t that the truth.” Greg murmured to himself. 

The sound of thunder rolling above him seemed to answer his self-chastising mutters. Lestrade only half finished his cigarette but it seemed like it would be best if he go home before rainfall.

As he turned to leave, he caught something at the corner of his eyes. A shadow, moving behind the crates. His hand automatically went to his gun inside his coat but he didn’t draw it out. He slowly turned around, took a flashlight from his pocket and shone it towards the crates.

“Who’s there?” He demanded, one hand still ready on his gun. Silence answered him. Lestrade was beginning to think that it was just his imagination. The crates weren’t big enough to hide a human— an adult human, at least.

Finally he saw a slight movement. When he saw it though, he was surprised at what he saw peeking from behind the crates. It could only be described as a tail — short, stout and covered in coppery red scales. It was some sort of reptile. It must’ve ran away from its cage.

Still wary but no longer afraid of being assaulted by an armed smuggler, he went down on one knee. “Hello.” He said gently, “Don’t be scared. I won’t hurt you.” 

He knew that the animal, whatever it was, could very much hurt him but he tried not to think about that. Praying to the God in high heaven that it’s not a predator like a crocodile or something poisonous, he scooted a little bit closer. 

“You can come out, it’s okay.” Lestrade cooed again. He didn’t know why he did that, it wasn’t as if the animal would understand him, but hopefully his soothing tones would calm the animal down and hopefully this would end with all his fingers intact. 

The tail twitched before it disappeared again behind the crates. This time a tiny head peeked cautiously and Lestrade lowered the flashlight so it didn’t shine in its eyes. He put the flashlight down and extended his hand. “Hey there, little guy.”

Slowly, cautiously, the creature stepped out from behind the crates and Lestrade sucked in his breath. It was a large lizard, about the size of a small dog and that was pretty fucking big by Lestrade’s standard. It was covered in dark red scales except for his neck, which was covered in dark feathers. It’s tail was short and stumpy and his neck was slim, leading to an angular head with a pair of curious golden eyes.

The creature looked like a small dragon.

Lestrade wondered where exactly did the smugglers catch this one, Game of Thrones?

Lestrade didn’t have time to make more jokes in his head about ’Smaug the Terrible’ and other dragon jokes because the lizard — not dragon, Lestrade kept telling himself, because he did _not_ fall into some sort of rabbit hole — cautiously walked towards him. Lestrade willed himself to not make any sudden move, he didn’t want to spook the creature and risk a bite. It came closer and sniffed Lestrade’s hand and Lestrade tried to not jolt when it’s cold scaly nose nuzzled his hand. Lestrade lifted his hand slowly and the lizard followed it with his eyes. It flinched when Lestrade’s hand came closer but didn’t move away so Lestrade gently petted its head and smoothed down the feathers around it’s neck. It let out a chittering sound and nuzzled Lestrade’s hand again and Lestrade found himself smiling. 

“Aren’t you an adorable one?” He murmured and finally took his hand out of his coat. Again he moved slowly to not spook the lizard and he used that hand to stroke the soft feathers on the lizard’s forehead. It’s head was covered in some sort of soft fuzz except the area around his eyes and nostrils. 

The lizard chirped in reply and it sniffed curiously at Lestrade’s cigarette. He almost forgot about the cigarette.

“Oh, sorry. The smell is probably bothering you.” Lestrade took it from his lips and gave a self depreciating smile. The lizard eyed the cigarette curiously before snatching it from Lestrade’s finger with its sharp teeth. “Hey!” Lestrade immediately pulled his hand back and thankfully all his fingers were still there.

The lizard ignored him and proceeded to eat the lit cigarette whole, which… ow. Okay, exotic animal or no, that couldn’t be good. It didn’t show any signs of discomfort however, in fact his tail swished left and right like a happy dog. 

Lestrade started to think that he dreamt the whole thing and if he wake up he would be on the couch, drunk out of his mind, and Maggie would scold him again with that annoyed-disappointed look she had lately. 

“All right… That was strange…” That was an understatement. Now that he had more time to think about it, it was strange that the creature would approach him at all if he really had run away from a smuggler. Why wasn’t it more afraid of humans?

It let out a pleased chitter when it was finished with the cigarette. Lestrade was about to call Sally for the animal containment location when the sound of thunder boomed. The lizard squeaked and frantically clambered up to Lestrade, burrowing into his coat. 

“Hey!” Lestrade cried when sharp claws held on his shirt, “Ow ow ow! Okay, calm down. Calm down, it’s going to be fine.” He tried to sooth the panicked lizard. The lizard was shivering, tucking its fuzzy head underneath Lestrade’s chin. Lestrade murmured soothingly and ran his finger down the lizard’s back gently. He might felt a semblance of wings on its back but again he tried not to think about it. 

“Shhh… It’s okay.” He wrapped his arms around it and it started to calm down, “Any chance you stop clawing me? That’s it…” The lizard seemed to understand and unhooked his claws from his shirt. “Good. Don’t be scared, it’s just a bit of thunder.” It chittered in reply and Lestrade chuckled. “Not very fond of rain, are you? Well, welcome to London.” 

It glared at him and Lestrade chuckled again. He held it safely in his arms as he stood up. “All right, let’s get you all checked up with the rest of the animals, shall we?”

“No.” 

Lestrade couldn’t believe his ears — or his eyes — because in his arms instead of a red scaled lizard, there was a young boy. Lestrade’s mouth fell open as he dumbly stared at the boy in his arms (He was insanely proud that he didn’t accidentally drop the boy in surprise). The boy looked about five or six, with dark curls and pale skin. Some of the skin on his shoulders and elbows was mottled with dark red scales, but the rest of him was smooth. The boy had the same golden eyes as the lizard, but they weren’t so bright on him.

“What?” Lestrade said eloquently. 

“No. Not animal.” He said again petulantly. His voice was a tad hoarse, and it sounded like he was still trying to grasp the words on his tongue. He stubbornly gripped Lestrade’s shirt and glared at him. 

“You- You were a lizard.” In his shock, Lestrade just spouted whatever was in his mind. The boy gave him a withering look and Lestrade never knew he could feel like such an idiot with just one glare. 

Now he was sure that he was either drunk or high out of his mind. Maybe he was attacked in the alley by one of the criminal and they drugged him. Maybe he was actually knocked out now and Donovan would find him lying on the ground in the morning.

The boy opened his mouth. Perhaps to say no again, perhaps to say something more scathing, but a loud thunderclap startled a shriek out of him. He hid his face in Lestrade’s shoulder and whimpered, “No. No rain. Don’t like wet. Thunder bad.” 

He looked so scared and Lestrade’s heart clenched. He immediately took off his coat and wrapped the boy with it. The boy was naked, obviously, he had been a dragon. No, Lestrade shook his head, a lizard. Not a dragon, because there’s only so much weird Lestrade can accept in one night.

He wasn’t sure he should take the boy with the rest of the smuggled animals now. That would’ve gone down well with his superior. “This boy was a reptile! I swear!” Yep, that should get him a hot date with the MET’s shrinks. 

He didn’t have a lot of other options, so he asked the boy. 

“Do you have anywhere to go?” He asked him quietly. The boy was silent for a moment before he shook his head. “I‘m lost.”

Lestrade already knew that, but he bit back a sigh. “Can you tell me what happened?"

“There was thunder. I ran from thunder. And then humans and cages and. Then it was dark. I woke up. Lots of animals. Scary. I hid. Then I run.” He said haltingly, as if he’s rapidly trying to learn to speak or maybe to remember. Lestrade waited for him to continue, rubbing his back encouragingly. Suddenly he started to sob, “M-Mycwo- Mycwoft…”

Lestrade frantically tried to sooth the boy, hugging him closer and rocking him a little. He continued sobbing, hiccuping a little “I-I want… My-Mycroft…” 

“Shh… It’s okay. We’ll find Mycroft, okay?” Lestrade patted his back gently, “Is Mycroft your… Your daddy?”

He shook his head, smearing his tears and snot on Lestrade’s shirt. To his credit, Lestrade didn’t wince. “No. Brother.”, he said with a hiccup, wiping his tears with the back of his hand. “Ada gone. Thunder.”

Assuming this Ada was his dad, either his dad disappeared during a storm or he died struck by lightning. Either way it would be best if Lestrade tries to find the boy’s brother. How hard could it be, right? Find out where the smugglers captured him from, figure out if there was a similar reptilian among the captured animals, and reunite the brothers. 

“Do you have a name, little buddy?” Lestrade asked him friendlily. The boy nodded, staring at him with his golden eyes, still a bit wet. “Sh’lock.”

“Sh’lock?” Lestrade asked again. He shook his head then pronounced it again more clearly, “Sher-lock.”

“Sherlock?” the boy nodded. Lestrade smiled warmly at him, “Well nice to meet you, Sherlock. I’m Greg.”

“Greg.” Sherlock called, and his lips spread into an adorable toothy grin. Greg grinned at him just as wide, “Well Sherlock, do you want to go home with me?”

Sherlock looked at him for several moments, as if contemplating it. Then slowly he nodded before yawning and leaned his head on Greg’s shoulder again. Greg couldn’t help but grin widely over how adorable it was.

“All right. Let’s get you home before it rains.” He jostled the boy a bit so he could perch more comfortably on his hip

“No rain.” Sherlock said, as if chastising the thunder cloud.

Thankfully before the first raindrop fall, Sherlock was dry and safely buckled in the passenger seat of Greg’s car.


	2. The First Night

Greg glanced at the boy in the passenger seat. He was wrapped tightly in Lestrade’s tan coat except for his tiny bare feet, wiggling in rhythm with the wiper. He sat still at first until he couldn’t help but fidget. When Greg glanced at him again, the boy was looking outside the window curiously, mouth slightly open in wonder.

“Where are you from, Sherlock?” Greg asked while he waited for the light to change. 

Sherlock shrugged, “Somewhere far far away.” Greg noticed with no small amount of surprise that his speech got better in such a short time. “I live in a forest. There’s lots of greens.” He continued.

“Were you taken by the smuggler– er, bad men?” Greg suspected as much but probably best to confirm it. The light changed and Greg drove away. 

Sherlock nodded quietly. When he didn’t say anything more Greg glanced at him again. “They were big and scary. That was the first time I saw a human. They grabbed my tail.” Sherlock said and looked indignantly at Greg, as if expecting him to be just as horrified. Greg tried to look appropriately shocked although he wasn’t sure what was the implication of grabbing his tail. It sounded like some sort of capital offense. 

Greg couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. Lost and alone, surrounded by things he had never seen before. And he was so young and small. 

He gently patted Sherlock’s head. “You’re safe now, okay? I’ll make sure of it.”

Sherlock’s tiny hand grabbed Greg’s fingers and held onto them. When Greg glanced again he was smiling so Greg smiled too, “You’re not scared of me?”

“Greg is not scary.” he giggled as if that was such a ludicrous concept. “Greg is kind.”

__

 

Greg parked the car in front of his flat. He opened the door and opened an umbrella before stepping outside. “Wait.” He told Sherlock.

He went around and helped Sherlock with the belt buckle. Sherlock stretched his arms asking for Greg to pick him up and he did. He wrapped his tiny arms around Greg’s neck while Greg locked the car behind him. 

“Sleepy?” Greg asked.

Sherlock nodded.

He held on tightly to Greg as Greg went up the stairs and unlocked his flat. When he turned on the light, Sherlock’s eyes darted everywhere curiously. The flat was messy – Greg didn’t have time to tidy up after Maggie took off with her belongings, what with the smuggling case to worry about. Greg placed the umbrella down and carried Sherlock to the sofa. 

“Wait here.” He said as he set Sherlock down. Greg went back to the door to fold the umbrella and close the door. Then he went to turn on the heater and put the kettle on. Sherlock watched him move around the flat until Greg disappeared into the bedroom for a while. Sherlock was patient for half a moment before he slid down from the sofa and went to find Greg, dragging the oversized coat with him. 

He peeked through the open door just as Greg turned around from the wardrobe. “Oh.” He chuckled, “Got impatient, didn’t you?” 

Sherlock didn’t say anything. He was just glad he found Greg. He toddled over quietly and outstretched his arms to be picked up. 

Instead Greg kneeled down to his level. “I don’t have any clothes your size, so you can use my T-shirt as your pajama for tonight. We’ll find some clothes for you tomorrow, all right?”

He nodded. Greg gave him the shirt and turned around to give him some privacy, busying himself with tidying the bed and putting on a fresh sheet. 

Sherlock eyed the shirt curiously. He let the coat slink to the floor and put the t-shirt over his head, except he was trying to push his head through the sleeve hole and got stuck. He whined in distress when his head wouldn’t go through the hole and he heard Greg chuckle. 

“No, not like that. Hold on.” He stopped Sherlock from tugging at the shirt and helped him wear it the correct way. Sherlock’s head popped from the collar with a satisfied grin. The short sleeve extended past his elbow and the shirt bottom brushed past his knee. 

“Hungry?” Greg asked after he was done changing the sheets on the bed with fresh ones. Sherlock rubbed his tummy, deeply thinking. Greg waited patiently until eventually he nodded. Greg patted his head, “What do you want to eat, Sherlock?”

Sherlock thought about it for a while before happily blurting, “Beetles!”

Greg blinked.

“Er…”

Sherlock frowned, then tried again “Snails?”

Greg still looked at him blankly and Sherlock huffed in annoyance, “Fruits?”

Greg sighed in relief, “Fruits. Yes, we can do that. I have some fruits I think.”

Having agreed, Sherlock lifted his arms again until Greg lifted him up to perch him on his hip. “Oof. No chance of you walking on your own two feet, huh?” Greg asked and tickled his feet teasingly. Sherlock giggled and said, “No!”

Greg knew he probably shouldn’t spoil him that much but Sherlock did look tired and he had been through a lot. He was tired himself, but he then noticed that he hadn't thought about Maggie ever since he met Sherlock.

He set Sherlock down on the chair in the kitchen and Sherlock watched as Greg washed and gave him an apple which he ate happily. He then took two clean mugs and made tea in each. When he turned around, Sherlock stared at him thoughtfully. 

“More?” Greg asked. Sherlock beamed at him. 

Sherlock ate the entire bag. Greg made a mental note to do some grocery on top of getting the boy more clothes. Sherlock finished his tea after adding a heaping amount of sugar and fell promptly asleep with his head on the table when he was full. 

Greg smiled resignedly and picked him up to carry him to the bedroom. He noticed Sherlock was a lot heavier now, but children always seem heavier when they were asleep. Sherlock automatically wrapped his arms around Greg’s neck.

Greg absently thought that he should get Sherlock some toothbrush and pajamas too. 

He laid Sherlock down on the bed and tucked the blanket around him. After making sure he’s all tucked in, Greg turned off the light and went to the living room. 

He took off his coat and tie and just threw himself to the sofa. Now that he stopped fussing about Sherlock he suddenly felt tuckered out. He had half a mind to grab some beer but decided he was too tired to go to the kitchen and grab them. He reached for his phone instead.

“John? Yeah. Sorry for calling so late. Listen, are you free tomorrow? I need a favor…”

John readily agreed to his request, although he was a bit curious when Greg didn’t give him any more details. Good ol’ John, always so reliable and ready to help a friend. Greg smiled when he hung up. 

As he sat there in silence, waiting for sleep to take him, Greg absently thought about how much he enjoyed taking care of Sherlock. He always wanted kids, but Maggie wasn’t too keen on the idea. He already given up his dream of having a big family.

Maybe this was it. Maybe this was his chance.

Sometime before he fell asleep he briefly wondered why the fact that the boy was a lizard didn’t bother him more.

___

Lestrade woke up slowly. The room was dark except for the light from the muted TV. He didn’t quite need the light to notice the heavy bundle on his chest though. 

Sherlock was sleeping on top of him, curled tight on himself under the blanket. Greg tentatively stroked his hair and asked quietly. “Sherlock?”

“Cold.” he answered, and nuzzled closer to him. Greg wasn’t quite sure what to do. Tentatively he wrapped his arms around Sherlock and sure enough he was cold. For a moment he panicked; he was afraid that maybe the boy was sick, being in the warehouse for God knows how long, not to mention he didn’t exactly know what happened during the transit from God knows where. 

Sherlock sneezed but his breath evened out as he fell back asleep and Greg could feel him getting warmer. Suddenly he remembered what he learned from his biology class. Reptilians are cold blooded and can’t regulate their own body temperature, so maybe Sherlock’s human body couldn’t cope with the cold.

He decided that it should be fine for now and he fell asleep with Sherlock curled on his chest.

**Author's Note:**

>  **About the shapeshifters in this AU:**  
>  They age rapidly until they reach adulthood, in which their animal form then will continue to grow in size until death. The human form age about ten years in one human year, and after they reach a certain age the growth rate will slow exponentially. The existence of shifters is unknown to humans. Some very old (and therefore very large) shifters became urban legends, such as Nessie. Sometimes young shifters couldn't shift completely, resulting in a human/animal hybrid and creating myths like mermaids or harpies.
> 
> There are only a few number of shifters nowadays, about one shifter every one hundred thousand human. To preserve the population, all shifters can bear children. They don't have any A/B/O dynamics and don't go into heat. Most shifters prefer to live in seclusion, and only several dared to live among the humans.
> 
> Shifters usually communicate non verbally and telepathically. They can read minds of shifters and nonshifters alike, but cannot project thought to nonshifters. The only way for them to communicate with nonshifters is to take their human form.


End file.
